late night serenades
by faithsette
Summary: "This woman could be anyone. He could've seen her before, or multiple times, and not have known it was her, the one with the voice that's captured his kid. And him." AU prompt fill. Alternatively titled "Kate Beckett sings 90s hits" probably.


It starts one night while he's in the kitchen, grabbing some water and a snack for Alexis before bed.

"Daddy! Daddy come here!"

He leaves what he's picked up on the counter and runs upstairs, finds Alexis standing outside the bathroom. "What's wrong, pumpkin?"

She shakes her head. "Nothing's wrong, listen," she says, pointing into the bathroom before tugging him in there with her.

It takes a few seconds but then he hears it. A voice. A woman's voice, and she's singing. Her voice is soft but steady and she has a tone that most artists would probably kill for.

"Wow," he whispers.

Alexis nods and turns to look up at him. "It's so pretty."

She's right.

He continues to listen as the voice carries through the wall and into their bathroom. After about thirty seconds he realizes he hasn't even been focusing on the words, just her voice, so he listens more intently to the song she's singing. It's a couple beats before he gets anything he recognizes, but when he does he has to hold in a laugh.

" _I don't want no scrub, a scrub is a guy that can't get no love from me,_ " the melodic voice sings, so pleasing to his ears and so hilarious at the same time.

"Daddy, what's a scrub?" Alexis asks, genuine curiosity on her face.

He stifles his laughter. "I'll tell you when you're older," he jokes.

She pouts. "I'm six!"

"Then I'll tell you when you're seven."

" _Hanging out the passenger side of his best friend's ride, tryin' to holler at me._ "

His hands are on Alexis's shoulders as he kneels behind her, both still listening to their mystery neighbor sing. He wonders immediately if he's seen her in the hallways, if he knows who she is. Admittedly, he's been rather awful at actually getting to know his neighbors in the past, but he tells himself it's only because the last time he tried to be social it turned out to be a young screen writer who wanted him to read his plays once he realized who he was. Which, as far as he's concerned, makes no sense since he knows next to nothing about writing an honest screen play.

But now he wants to know who she is. He wants to know what she looks like, wants to see how her facial expressions change while she sings.

The voice begins to taper off and trail into more of a humming, so he nudges the girl's side with his shoulder. "Come on," he announces, standing up himself. "Time to get you into bed."

Alexis sighs but obeys, moving around him to get herself ready.

He hovers for a few more minutes, just long enough to hear the voice come back one last time, softly murmuring out the rest of a chorus.

" _I don't want no scrub, a scrub is a guy that can't get no love from me._ "

* * *

The next night he finds himself in the bathroom again.

He goes to look for Alexis, tell her that it's almost time for bed and to get ready, but she isn't in the living room. She's not in her room either, and his brows furrow.

"Alexis?"

There's no answer and his pace quickens, but he finally finds her as he walks past the bathroom and notices a distinct flash of red out of the corner of his eye. She's sitting indian style in front of the wall, staring at it as if something's about to play on the surface, her elbows propped on her thighs and her head in her hands.

He laughs. "Pumpkin, what are you doing?"

She looks at him and smiles. "She's singing again!"

He waits for a few seconds and he's about to tell her that he doesn't hear anything, ask if she's sure she's actually hearing someone sing, but then there it is. The sound of running water almost drowns her out—almost—but it's still audible. And still just as beautiful as it was before.

"She is," he agrees then, leaning against the door frame.

"Do you know her, daddy?"

He shakes his head. "No I don't, actually."

He still wonders how that's possible, though, how he doesn't know who she is—doesn't even have the slightest clue as to what she looks like—when they're neighbors. Sure, he already knows that he doesn't really get to _know_ his neighbors, but he's seen people in the halls and downstairs in the lobby. The only problem is that he's not sure who lives on his floor and who doesn't. So, really, this woman could be anyone. He could've seen her before, or multiple times, and not have known it was her, the one with the voice that's captured his kid.

And him.

" _Unbreak my heart, say you'll love me again,_ " she sings, and he smiles. This is a stark contrast to the hilarious yet upbeat No Scrubs of yesterday's song.

Her voice is softer now, though no less in tune. He knows little about singing and the technical aspects of it, but he's been around his mother's Broadway plays long enough to know when someone has talent and isn't just putting on a show. Whoever this mystery singer is, she has talent.

" _Undo this hurt that you caused when you walked out the door and walked out of my life._ "

Alexis turns to look at him. "I know this song," she says, grinning with this new knowledge. "It was on the radio!"

He smiles with a small laugh. "It's a good one, isn't it?" She nods, then turns back, once again looking at absolutely nothing.

Shaking his head, he can barely suppress his own smile. Alexis is so into this, the woman's voice and just listening to her sing through a wall with a shower going, and it's too adorable.

His mind goes back to the song choice, and he can't help but wonder if there's a reason for it. True, he's not seen her, but he can tell she's attractive—call it an intuition—and now there seems to be somewhat of a pattern. She doesn't want no scrub, and now she's singing about heartache. He's curious to know whether or not she's just gone through a breakup, or maybe she's in a rocky relationship. It's none of his business, but the questions whirl around regardless.

" _Uncry these tears, I cried so many nights..._ "

Her voice trails into a low hum and he hears the water turn off, effectively ending her unknown concert.

"Alright, kid," he says, rolling the shoulder that's been propped against the door frame. "That's our cue."

Alexis stands slowly, glancing back at the wall as if the voice is about to start again. He takes her brief moment of unawareness and grabs her around the waist, tickles her sides until she's squirming against him.

"Dad!" she squeals, twisting and turning in an attempt to break free. "Daddy!"

He finally relents, grinning down at the redhead with a thinly veiled glare. "Brush your teeth," he laughs, nudging her towards the sink. "I'll tuck you in."

She mumbles something under her breath that he doesn't catch and he shakes his head, leaves her to finish up.

* * *

Day three comes and goes, and now he's not even surprised when he finds Alexis perched in the bathroom before bed. Though this time she's tugged a blanket in with her, and she's sitting on a small beanbag chair. He chuckles but he can't blame her. At least she's comfortable.

He brings in a few cookies. "Bedtime snack with your concert?" he teases, holding out a small plate.

She purses her lips but smiles anyway. "I already brushed," she hedges, but when he waves the cookie plate in front of her with a raised brow she caves, grabs one. "Just one."

He nods dutifully. "Of course."

But he knows she'll have more than one, which is why he keeps the cookies next to her.

"What's the song choice today?"

"I don't know it," she shrugs, taking a bite. "But it's still good."

He listens, waiting for the melody and the lyrics to strike a chord with him so he knows what it is.

" _Any other day I would call you would say, 'baby how's your day?' but today it ain't the same,_ " the woman sings, and a soft smile forms on his lips when he hears her let out a small chuckle, no doubt at her adorable use of the word ain't. " _Every other word is 'uh huh, yeah okay,' could it be that you're at the club with another lady?_ "

Destiny's Child.

He's not even ashamed that he knows this—the song is catchy and he's man enough to admit that he knows the words.

"Alexis, you do know this song," he corrects, watches her turn to look up at him with scrunched brows. "Wait till the chorus."

" _Say my name, say my name,_ " the voice continues, and he grins, watches Alexis for her reaction. She loves this song, just apparently doesn't know the verses. " _When no one is around you, say baby I love you if you ain't runnin' game._ "

As expected, Alexis's eyes light up and she gives a grin of her own. "Say my name, say my name, you're acting kind of shady," his daughter finishes for the woman, happily singing along, and he has to stifle his laughter at the proper wording. Not quite the same, but too right to correct. He loves it.

He joins in, and before he knows it they're a three part harmony to Say My Name—though their lady friend on the other side of the wall has no idea, and he's pretty sure they're not being loud enough to be heard over her running water—and he's tugging on Alexis, pulling her from the beanbag chair to spin her around.

The movements are a complete contrast to the song and not on beat at all, but it doesn't matter.

They're laughing and singing and he can thank the woman with the beautiful voice for this moment.

* * *

For the next week it's the same thing. He finds Alexis in the bathroom, perched in her spot with a snack as she listens to the singing. It's become a nightly routine now; she listens to the woman sing and then she gets ready and goes to bed without any issues.

It's a blessing. Alexis has always been pretty on top of her own bedtime, reminding _him_ when she has to go to bed, but even she has her moments, has nights when she wants to stay up later to watch a movie or finish reading a book. But ever since they've been hanging out in the bathroom every night, she hasn't—she goes to bed right after, easily, and with a smile.

He's been enjoying it just as much, if he's being completely honest. The woman's voice is incredible and he thinks he might've fallen in love with it. Hearing it every night is just an added bonus. He still really wishes he knew who she was and he hopes that, eventually, he'll have a reason to introduce himself. Or, at the very least, he'll catch a glimpse of her coming to or going from her apartment.

Either would be nice; he'll take what he can get.

The song choices are also perfect, and it's become a game—with himself, of course—where he tries to figure out what she'll sing next. It's a tall feat, especially since there are literally millions of songs out there, but he tries anyway.

He's always wrong, painfully so most often, but it's fun. Her song choices make him feel like he's getting to know her, the mysterious woman with no face to match the voice.

After the Destiny's Child, she jumped into more 90s songs; mostly hits, including but not limited to Don't Speak by No Doubt, Baby One More Time by Britney Spears—that one gets a good smile out of the both of them—and All or Nothing by O-Town. She fumbled the words a bit with All or Nothing, but recovered gracefully.

"Dad, will you get me some cereal?" Alexis asks, tugging her beanbag chair into its rightful spot.

"You want cereal as your snack?" he asks with mock horror. "We have ice cream!"

She shakes her head. "Apple Jacks please."

He huffs but goes anyway, grabs a bowl of Apple Jacks for her and a bowl of ice cream for himself, laughing when she almost falls into her beanbag chair upon his surprise return.

They settle in to wait for the signing to begin, and he hastily moves to cover Alexis's ears when it does. The girl turns, confused, and tries to wiggle out of his grasp.

"Dad, I can't hear!"

"That's the point, Pumpkin," he says, amusement in his voice as he shakes his head. Good song, hilarious song. Not so good a song for a six year old.

This woman's taste in shower karaoke songs continues to intrigue him.

" _She had dumps like a truck, truck, truck..._ "

* * *

The next Monday he has late meetings, despite having tried—and failed—to get them rescheduled. Apparently after the third rescheduling they get a bit impatient and decline the next request. Who knew.

Regardless, he's just now getting out and heading home, and he can only hope that his mother didn't try to cook anything. And, if she did, he's praying that his apartment is still in one piece. It's not that she's a bad cook, it's just... no, that's exactly it—she _is_ a bad cook. A bad cook who lights things on fire without even realizing.

He walks in the loft, noting with relief that everything is in place, but there's something off. His mother isn't lounging on the couch with a glass of wine like she normally is.

"Mother?" he calls, quietly so as not to wake up Alexis. It's only ten, but she's usually in bed by nine.

Footsteps sound to his left and then she appears. "Oh, Richard, good." He raises a brow. "Alexis refuses to go to sleep."

He frowns. "What?"

His mother shrugs, waving an exaggerated arm. "She won't go to sleep," she repeats. "Says she can't. I could've sworn she was actually in bed before, but now..."

She follows him as he takes off his coat, throwing it across a chair at the island before coming to a stop. He sighs, runs a hand through his hair. Alexis has been going to bed fine, what's the problem now?

"I'll go talk to her," he says finally, giving his mother a smile. "Thank you for watching her, Mother."

"No need, Richard. Do you need me to stay?"

He shakes his head. "No, I've got it from here. You can head home."

She gives him a pat on the shoulder before making her way out the door, and then he starts up the stairs to find his daughter sitting in bed. Not lying down, not asleep, but sitting there on top of her blankets, her hands in her lap.

"Alexis," he says as he enters the room. "Why aren't you asleep?"

Alexis looks at him. "I can't."

"Why not?"

She lowers her head, playing with the stuffed animal in her hands before she looks back up. "She didn't sing."

He starts to nod, but—

She didn't sing?

 _Oh_.

"The woman next door?" Alexis nods. "She didn't sing?"

She shakes her head. "No. I waited for her to sing but she didn't," she starts, taking a breath. She actually look saddened by this and he hates that. "Then grams said I had to go to bed and I tried. I _tried_ , daddy," she insists. "But I can't."

He sighs. "Pumpkin, I can't make her sing."

"Yes you can."

"I can't," he repeats, giving her a nudge. "Maybe she's just tired tonight."

He doesn't mention the odd wave of concern rippling inside him at the fact that there was no singing. She's been singing every night for over a week now, but tonight there's nothing. Obviously she could just be tired, or not in the mood, but he can't help but wonder if something's wrong.

But then he shakes his head, pushes it away. She's a stranger that he's never seen and her lack of singing doesn't mean something's wrong.

Alexis averts her eyes. "But she has to sing. I can't sleep until she sings."

He runs a hand over his face, looking away from her for a second. "You slept just fine before she started singing," he reminds, but she just shakes her head.

"Can't now," she says again, gripping her monkey to her chest. "I want her to sing, daddy."

She's looking at him with those big, blue puppy dog eyes that she _knows_ he can't resist. And he can't. He just doesn't know what he can actually do right now. It's not like he can just go across the hall, knock on her door, and ask her to sing so his kid can go to sleep.

Right?

No, that's ridiculous.

But after a half hour of Alexis insisting, refusing to sleep, and looking unusually upset about the fact that this woman neither of them even know hasn't sung tonight, he can't take it. He has to see if he can ask her to sing.

It's still ridiculous, but he doesn't see any other choice.

* * *

He's standing outside her apartment five minutes later, after telling Alexis that he'd see what he can do. He made no promises, but he really hopes there's some kind of compromise that works here so his kid can go to sleep.

A glance down at his watch tells him that it's just after 10:30, and he really hopes that she's not asleep. Waking her up is not what he wants to do.

He knocks finally, taking a breath as he waits. There's no movement on the other side and he drops his shoulders, ready to turn and go back to his apartment, when he hears something fall. A clattering, the sound of a heavy object crashing to the floor, and his back straightens. He knocks again, telling himself that it's still just to see if there's anything she can do and not because his concern is growing, what with the crash.

The door swings open thirty seconds later, after a hoard of other clattering sounds from inside, and he's face to face with—

One of the most beautiful women he's ever seen. Wow. She's stunning.

Chestnut hair falls just at her shoulders, messy and not styled but somehow still gorgeous. He'd expected that she was attractive, but he definitely wasn't expecting this. Her eyes are a hazel that he doesn't even have the right words to describe and they're... oh, looking at him. Confused. Right, he's here for a reason.

"Hi," he says, shifting on his feet. "I'm Rick, your—I'm your neighbor."

She nods slowly. "Hello?" A beat later. "I'm Kate."

"It's nice to meet you, Kate," he grins, taking in the confusion still written on her face. "You're probably wondering why I'm here."

A perfectly sculpted brow arches. "A little bit, yeah."

"Well, you see, we live next door—I already said that, right. Anyway, we live next door and we can hear—" His voice trails off as his eyes roam, observing the woman in front of him. Her hair's all over the place and he just assumed she hadn't showered yet after a long day, but now he realizes just how tired she looks. Exhausted, even. She's leaning against the door frame, her arm wrapped around front with fingers rubbing at her face. "Hey, are you okay?"

She startles. "Yeah, yeah I'm fine," she says, giving him a small smile and a nod. "Rough day at work."

His eyes soften. "Oh, what do you do?"

"I—I uh..." she hesitates, looks away for a second. When she turns her head he can see a bruise on the side of her neck. She sighs. "I'm a cop. Vice."

He was not expecting that either. "That is _so cool_ ," he beams, but the smile falters when her hand seems to unconsciously rub at the bruised area. "Did that happen there?"

Her hand drops immediately. "Yeah," she admits. "But it's fine. What did you need?" she asks, obviously deflecting.

"Oh, uh," he shakes his head. He can't make her sing for his kid, not like this. Not exhausted and obviously after a rough day. "We can hear you singing every night but you didn't sing tonight and now my daughter refuses to go to sleep—"

Her mouth opens, eyes wide, and then she bites down on her bottom lip. "I—did not know anyone could hear that," she laughs. "Every night, huh?"

Nodding, he grins. "Every night. Your 90s hits were all very thrilling, I must say," he says lightly, notices the blush in her cheeks. "Might've even joined in one night."

The other brow shoots up. "I _thought_ I heard something one of those times, but I just told myself I was imagining it," she says, her lips twisting up.

"Say My Name night, right?"

"Actually... yeah."

He shrugs with a smile. "Guilty as charged."

She rolls her eyes, giving a small laugh. "So you're saying she won't sleep now?"

"Nope," he confirms, shaking his head. "She's sitting in her bed right now, refusing to sleep unless you sing. _But_ ," he adds, holding up a finger. "I have a better idea. Stay here?"

Her forehead creases in confusion but she nods, slowly, and he rushes off back to his apartment.

* * *

"Alexis," he calls as he goes up the stairs. "Come here."

She does, and he smiles down at her. "Did you get her to sing?" she asks, eyes full of hope.

He shakes his head. "No," he starts, but bends down before she can pout. "I met her. She seems very nice, but she's had a bad day and I have an idea."

His fingers beckon her closer, and he leans in to whisper something in her ear. She lights up, a wide grin breaking onto her face as she nods enthusiastically. He grins back, motions for her to grab Monkey Bunkey before he takes her hand and leads her out the door.

Kate—the name suits her, he thinks—is still standing in her doorway when he returns, Alexis at his side.

He looks down and puts his hand on his daughter's shoulder.

"Hi, I'm Alexis," the girl says, offering her hand, and he can't hold in his smile. "You have a really pretty voice."

Kate blushes. "Thank you, Alexis," she says, shaking her hand. "I'm Kate." She turns to the man in front of her. "So, did you really bring your daughter over here so I could sing for you guys?" she asks, her voice laced with amusement if not some hesitation.

He shakes his head. "Nope."

She raises a brow. "No?"

"Nope!" Alexis chimes in, tugging her monkey closer to her chest. "We're gonna sing for you!"

Her eyes widen, her mouth opening before she closes it again. "I—you—you're going to what?"

He grins, nodding along with his bouncing daughter. " _Well_ ," he drawls, giving her a look. "You've had a rough day so instead of making you sing for us, we're going to return the favor and sing for you."

She still looks shocked. "Oh, you really don't have to—"

"Nonsense," he smiles. "We'd love to. Right, Pumpkin?"

The girl nods, smiling up at her. "Right!"

Kate tugs her bottom lip between her teeth, looking between the pair. She doesn't say anything, doesn't know _what_ to say, so she just nods.

"Would you like us to serenade you in the hallway?" he teases, looking back to see if there's anyone around them. "Because we can—"

She shakes her head. "No, of course not. Come in," she says, stepping back to let the father and daughter pass.

He takes in her apartment, smaller than his but very cozy and nicely decorated. He likes it.

"Take a seat, if you will," he says, gesturing to the couch on his left.

She walks past him with a roll of her eyes, but she sits. Her legs cross and she looks at the two of them, now huddling together before her in what looks to be some kind of game plan negotiation. Alexis nods after he says something to her and then he nods back, and it's all very surreal and adorable.

"Okay!" Alexis announces happily, a toothy grin directed at their neighbor. "We're ready!"

Kate waves her hands in a _take it away_ movement as she curls back onto the couch. Her neck is killing her and she's exhausted, but she can't very well disappoint this child, the one who says she has a pretty voice and looks as if she's about to burst with excitement in her living room.

Just then, the two of them break out into a chorus of a more recent song—not a 90s hit, but just as good—and she can't help the smile that forms on her face.

" _Cause you had a bad day, you're takin' one down_ ," he starts, and then Alexis joins in, the two of them singing, " _you sing a sad song just to turn it around_."

She laughs as she watches the two of them get into it.

" _You say you don't know, you tell me don't lie, you work at a smile and you go for a ride_."

He grabs Alexis' hand, dancing with her in Kate's living room as he spins her and elicits a loud giggle from the girl. Kate ends up joining in, singing softly from her spot on the couch as she looks on.

They continue singing, and somewhere in the middle he looks at her, eyes twinkling, a hand outstretched. Her eyes widen and she goes to shake her head but Alexis looks at her with a smile, her father doing the same, and so she grabs his hand and lets him tug her off the couch, pull her up past the coffee table and in their little bubble.

She sings louder now and he grins, revels in the sound of her voice right now. Here, next to him, in her apartment with his kid. It's even more beautiful without a wall and a shower between them.

Alexis looks up at Kate with a wide smile and a look of pure awe, and he notices the small blush creep onto her cheeks.

" _Well you need a blue sky holiday..._ "

Turns out she did sing for them after all.

* * *

 _"hi you live next door and we can hear you singing every night but you didn't sing last night and now my daughter refuses to sleep until you sing" au_

Also thank you to the lovely prosemeds for giving me this title idea after I blanked for a solid week.


End file.
